


What's The Truth?

by FictionalNutter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, M/M, Truth Spells, Wincest - Freeform, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-16
Updated: 2015-01-11
Packaged: 2018-02-17 14:20:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2312669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FictionalNutter/pseuds/FictionalNutter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a text post prompt going around Tumblr - A witch tells Sam that she cast a truth spell on Dean. When Dean starts saying every hateful thing he can think of to his brother, however, Sam is forced to wonder if that's truly how his brother thinks of him!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Original Inspiring Post: [Here](http://supernaturallyimagined.tumblr.com/post/97612488823/texanpadalecki-wincest-au-where-a-witch-placed)

Really, Sam should have seen it coming. He hadn't really wanted to go after this particular witch. When someone with powerful magic is operating as an hitman, it seems wise to avoid them unless you know you have the upper hand. Of course, Dean being Dean, he'd been confident they could take the witch and be back to the motel before dinner time. Sam had tried to argue, but Dean wasn't listening. They had been bickering a lot lately, over nothing important, and Dean hadn't seemed inclined to listen to him. So, rather than let Dean go in alone, he sucked it up and followed his brother.

Now, Dean was lying on the floor unconscious, and the witch they'd been after was still standing, chanting over the unaware Winchester. Sam tried to heave himself up off the ground where he had fallen in the witch's blast, but lost his balance and fell again.

"Stop!" He yelled, wincing as he failed to stand again. Shaking his head to clear his vision, Sam tried again. "Please, don't hurt him!"

The witch finalized her chant with a flourish, turning in one fell swoop to stalk over to Sam. Holding out a hand, she surprised him by helping him to his feet and dusting him off. "Silly boys," she murmured thoughtfully. "You really thought you could take me?" When Sam didn't reply, she smiled softly and shook her head. "No, you knew better. It was your lover over there you made the decision. Hmm."

Sam took a deep breath, trying to get himself together. "You better not have done anything to him."

The witch snorted. "Relax, it's a truth spell." She let a smile wry smile slip and waggled an eyebrow. "Maybe you'll find it enlightening. Only I know how to remove the spell, but if the two of you try and track me down again, I won't let you off so easily." Whirling away from Sam, she winked at him, clapped her hands, and vanished.

Groaning, Sam made his way over to Dean as quickly as he could manage, checking to make sure Dean didn't have any obvious head wounds before attempting to shake him awake. "Dean, are you okay?"

With a moan, Dean blinked slowly and squinted up at Sam. "Ugh. What happened?"

"The witch got the drop on us," Sam informed him, irritated now that he knew Dean was no longer in immediate danger. "You got knocked out. She got away."

Dean scowled at him, rising up slowly and wincing slightly. "What, and you let her go?" Cursing under his breath he added, "Useless."

Recoiling slightly, Sam schooled his expression and changed the subject. "Look, can you stand? We need to get out of here, just in case she comes back."

"Sure, wouldn't want to actually clean up your mess," Dean snarked, snarling at Sam.

The witch's words came back to Sam all at once, and he had to turn away to hide the hurt in his expression. Of all the things he might of expected from a truth spell, hurtful words being bitterly hurled in his direction was nowhere near the top of the list. Did Dean really feel that way about him?

"What are you just standing there for? Move your ass." Dean stood finally and pushed past Sam, who was still crouched on the ground, knocking him off balance. "Why do I even put up with you?"

* * *

 

After an hour or so in the motel room doing his best to hide his reactions to Dean's various snipes, Sam started to gather some clues about the spell Dean was under. If the general demeanor of his brother was any indication, Dean didn't know he was throwing barbs at Sam every few minutes. He was acting relatively normal, and didn't seem to even be aware he was saying anything unusual. Sam threw himself into research on his laptop, hoping to find something about truth spells they didn't already know that might help. Dean had scowled at him and said, "What are you wasting your time on? You should jump in the shower. I mean, it's not like you'll ever be attractive, but you could at least be clean."

Taking a deep breath, Sam had ignored the comment and focused on his laptop. He knew the witch had said she was the only one who could stop it, but he was praying that she was wrong. Something had to be able to stop this. Even if it meant living in denial and pretending Dean really loved him, Sam wasn't sure how long he would last with the love of his life constantly spitting vitriol at him. He would rather pretend. Unfortunately, nothing in his research gave him any hints. Maybe he needed more old school research.

"Hey, Dean?" Sam asked tentatively, steeling himself for the coming insult.

Sighing heavily, Dean turned to face him. "What do you want now?"

"I want to do some research on a potential case, and there's an old library near here that may have some helpful books. I'm going to head over there before they close, okay?" Sam held up the car keys and his jacket as he spoke to indicate he was leaving.

"Fine, but if you scratch my car, you're as good as dead. Everyone knows you're careless with important things." Dean made a face at him, then turned back to the magazine he was flipping through.

Sam took a breath and walked towards the door. Hoping against hope, he paused before walking out and turned back to say, "Love you."

Sam wasn't sure what he expected, but it was still crushing to see the look of disdain on Dean's face as he replied, "What, are you expecting me to say it back? What makes you think I could ever care about you?"

* * *

 

After about a week of Sam dodging him and disappearing for long stretches of time, Dean went from mildly concerned to seriously worried. Sam assured him everything was okay, but Dean was starting to get really worried. Sam had even taken to turning away from him in bed and avoiding all his advance. Dean was really confused, and starting to get self conscious. On one of the days when Sam had disappeared for another ambiguous research trip, Dean finally snapped and called Bobby.

"What's up, kid?" Bobby greeted him gruffly.

Dean hesitated, then replied, "I'm worried about Sam."

Immediately Bobby's mood changed to urgency. "What's wrong?"

"He's avoiding me, won't let me get close to him, won't really talk to me, and is constantly gone doing research," Dean blurted out. "It's been like this for a week now, and I'm kind of beyond worried by now."

Bobby hesitated, confused. "That doesn't sound like Sam at all. You say he won't talking to you?"

"Not unless he has to, and he's always flinching like he's been hit, but nothing's happening." Dean knew his frustration was coming out in his voice, and he ran a hand through his hand uncomfortably, sighing.

Bobby made a thoughtful noise. "Well, there's got to be something. I'm guessing he's not there right now?"

"No, he's out on another research trip." Dean revealed tiredly.

"Okay, I'll call him and find out what's going on." Bobby offered. "Just, try not to freak out. That kid loves you more than is probably good for him."

"I know, but, Bobby..." Dean protested.

"No buts," Bobby interrupted. "I'm going to step right over the giant pink elephant we all ignore and just remind you that you two are like the poster boys for love. Whatever's going on, Sam still loves you. I'd bet the house on it."

Dean sighed. "I know. I'm just worried. Something's going on, and I don't like it."

* * *

 

Sam fumbled to answer his phone in the library, mouthing 'sorry!' at a disapproving librarian. "Hello?" He answered quietly.

"Sam, it's Bobby. How are you?" Bobby greeted, his tone immediately indicating he meant business.

"Uh...I'm okay. Why?" Sam asked warily, not at all willing to go into his current issue.

"Dean called. He's worried about you. Really worried. I know you two like the back of my hand, and I want to know what's going on with you, because I know you wouldn't be acting so off if something wasn't seriously wrong," Bobby informed him. "So spill, kid."

Sam was quiet for a moment, but Bobby was apparently willing to be patient. "It's kind of..." Sam trailed off, having to take a deep breath. "Complicated," he finished.

"We live with complicated. Tell me." Bobby replied calmly.

Sam sighed heavily, then began to tell the whole story. "We had this case with a witch, and I didn't want to go after her because she was too strong, but we'd been fighting and Dean didn't listen to me, so we went after her anyway. She threw us, knocking Dean out and dazing me. She was chanting over Dean and I couldn't stop her. She hit him with a truth spell, and I think some aspect of it makes him unaware of what he's saying. I can't find a way to break it, and she told me she's the only one who can reverse it, but if we went after her she'd do something worse."

Bobby made a concerned noise. "I take it Dean doesn't know he's under a truth spell?"

"I decided not to tell him," Sam murmured.

"What's he been saying?" Bobby asked warily.

"It doesn't matter. It's all true, so there's nothing I can do about it. I'm just going to have to find a way to fix it or live with it." Sam rubbed his wearily.

"Sam," Bobby said firmly, "what is he saying to you?"

"Bobby..." Sam trailed off.

"Answer the damn question, boy." Bobby demanded.

Sighing, Sam finally replied, "He says I'm useless, that I don't get anything right, that he thinks I'm ugly, or a waste of space, and that he's always resented me, doesn't want to be around me, hates to spend time with me. Stuff like that. Sometimes he gets creative. He doesn't ever seem aware of it though, so I decided to just pretend nothing was wrong."

"Sam..." Bobby breathed out, sounding sad. "You know all of that is crap. I just had to beat this into Dean's brain when he was concerned you were upset with him. He. Loves. You. I'm not getting into all of your complicated crap, boy, but don't you dare doubt that your brother would do anything for you. Whatever that witch did to him, it's not a truth spell. I'll do some work on my end, but you need to tell him what's going on. It sounds to me like she cursed him to damage whatever he loved most, and it sounds like it's working."

"Bobby, are you sure?" Sam asked hesitantly.

"Positive. How in the hell could you ever believe for a second Dean would ever think any of that crap about you, kid?" Bobby asked, exasperated. "I'll track down a solution on this side, but you go back to your brother and explain what's going on."

Taking a calming breath, Sam slowly nodded. "Okay. Okay. Call me if you find anything."

* * *

 

Dean glanced up as Sam entered the room, his face twisting into a snarl. "Oh, finally decided to show up? What have you been wasting time on now?"

Sam quickly schooled his expression, but not before he caught Dean's look of confusion. "Dean...we need to talk."

"Because spending my time on my ball and chain is productive," Dean snorted. "Fine. What?"

"The witch we were hunting cursed you," Sam blurted out, before he could talk himself out of it.

"You're my curse," Dean spat at him. Immediately his face twisted back into bewilderment and he added, "What are you talking about?"

"While you were out cold, she was chanting over you. She told me it was a truth spell, but I talked to Bobby and he said it's a type of curse instead. He's going to try and figure out how to fix it." Sam fidgeted, unsure how Dean was going to react. Everything was unpredictable right now.

Dean looked confused still. "Sam, is that why you've been acting so weird?"

"Uh...yeah," Sam replied, still uncomfortable.

"Figures you'd let me get cursed," Dean grouched. "You're not any help at all."

Sam barely held back a wince. He hoped Bobby found a solution soon.

* * *

 

The witch turned slowly, raising an eyebrow at the redneck who had somehow found her new home. "Another hunter?" She sighed. "Really?"

"Relax," Bobby said, raising his hands non-threateningly. "I don't have the firepower to take you out even if I wanted to. I need you to do something for me."

The witch raised an eyebrow. "I'm impressed you found me."

"I was highly motivated," Bobby said wryly. "I need you to remove the curse you put on Dean Winchester."

The witch started laughing. "Oh please. They came into my house and expected to come out unscathed. Those lovebirds deserved what they got. How's the tall one holding up? I'm sure it's been hell for him."

Bobby wrinkled his nose at the blatant mention of the big pink elephant, but ignored it. "It has. They've been punished enough."

The witch pursed her lips and considered him. "Hmm. What would I get out of this?"

"My word on behalf of the boys that they won't come after you." Bobby offered. "Me either, for that matter. If someone else comes after you, their problem, but the boys and I will steer clear."

"I don't have any confidence that you won't send someone after me," the witch said thoughtfully.

"No," Bobby agreed, "but you do have assurance that a Winchester won't come after you, and trust me when I say that's well worth the trade."

The witch pursed her lips and nodded. "Fine. It's hardly as much fun if I'm not around to admire my handiwork anyway. The object of the curse just needs to say 'I love you' to the one he's in love with. Given that the curse makes that particular sentiment virtually impossible to utter, I wish you good luck."

Before Bobby could blink, the witch had vanished.

* * *

 

"Hello?" Dean answered the phone casually, laying back on the bed with his legs propped up. Sam was across the room with his laptop making himself appear as small as possible.

"Dean, it's me. I found out how to break your curse." Bobby explained triumphantly.

"You did?" Dean verified, his tone excited. Sam perked up, curious at the change in Dean's attitude. He withered slightly under the glare his brother sent him, but managed to solidify himself and move over to join his brother.

"Yeah, you just have to tell your kid brother you love him. Apparently the curse means that it's virtually impossible to do, but if anyone can do impossible it's you Winchesters." Bobby sounded both exasperated and proud about that."

"I can do that!" Dean scoffed. Sliding the phone away from his mouth slightly, Dean turned to Sam and said, "Everything about you repulses me." He paused for a moment, blinked, then looked expectantly at Sam. "Did it work?"

"Ah...no," Sam said shakily, just as Bobby started yelling at Dean through the phone.

"You idjit! You just told the most important person in your life he repulses you," Bobby informed Dean sternly.

Dean's eyes widened. "Wait, what?"

"Yeah, so make it right! Spit out an 'I love you' and this will all be over." Bobby explained simply, sounding irritated.

"Bobby, I'll call you back. We might have to work at this awhile," Dean admitted. When Bobby agreed, the eldest Winchester hung up the phone and sighed heavily. Turning to Sam he said, "I don't understand how anyone could love you." He paused, then added, "Or even want you, I mean, have you met you?" When after a moment Sam still didn't appear to have heard what he needed, Dean sighed and scratched at his head. "This isn't working."

"What did Bobby say?" Sam managed to ask, sounding uncomfortable.

"He said I needed to tell you that you're worthless and damage everything you touch," Dean replied absently, looking frustrated.

"Dean..." Sam trailed off, knowing he couldn't do anything to help. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes and he angrily brushed them away before Dean could see. This wasn't worth crying over. It was just a stupid curse, and now that he knew Dean didn't really mean the things he was saying, it should be easier to ignore them, but somehow it wasn't.

Dean caught sight of the tears in Sam's eyes even as his younger brother moved to hide the evidence, and it sparked a fierce determination within him. Before the spark could be lost, Dean blurted out, "Sam, I love you."

Sam's head snapped up. "Really?"

Dean was suddenly hit with an impact of several hundred tiny snippets of memory he had been missing over the past week and change. His eyes widened with horror as he was able to pair every reaction he'd seen in his brother with the vitriol that had produced it. "God, Sammy," he murmured, moving forward and pulling his younger brother into a tight hug. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," Sam muttered against Dean's shoulder, immediately melting into the embrace. "It wasn't really you."

"No, but you thought it was a truth spell. The fact that you were able to believe for even a second that that's what I really think of you is what I'm sorry for," Dean replied quietly, tightening his grip on Sam. Sam couldn't help it, he let out a small sob at that. In response, Dean backed off slightly, still keeping Sam in his grip, and pulled his baby brother in for a kiss. Sam opened for him immediately, relishing the contact he'd been missing. As Dean slowly released him, he added softly, "We'll take it day by day, okay? I'll make it better."

"You already have," Sam replied, letting a smile grace his expression for the first time since the witch had cursed Dean. "It's good to have you back."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some follow up h/c was requested, so enjoy!

Dean glanced up from Bobby's kitchen table as Sam entered the room, but aside from a small smile, the younger Winchester didn't acknowledge his brother's presence. He poured himself a cup of coffee, then quickly left the room. Dean sighed heavily. Coming to Bobby's had been a way to give them a chance to recover from the number the witch had done on Sam's psyche, but Dean wasn't sure time was proving to be as much of a cure all as he'd hoped.

"Wow," Bobby said sarcastically from behind him. "That was awkward."

Cringing, Dean nodded. "Yeah, tell me about it. It's been a week, but nothing's really changed. He's so skittish, and I'm not sure how to fix it."

Bobby made a noise of derision and sighed. "This is the most uncomfortable it's ever been to be around you two, and that's saying something considering what you'd be getting up to if you were acting normal."

Dean winced at the reminder that Bobby was not as ignorant as they all liked to pretend he was. "Yeah, well, sorry. I hoped that being here would make him more comfortable."

Bobby rolled his eyes. "That's working out well. I gotta repair job to do in town today. I'll be gone until dark, probably. You make good use of that time and fix this, okay? Hell, talk to the boy for a change. This isn't just going to go away." He turned to walk away, then paused and added, "And if you mess up any of my linens you'd better be damn sure you wash them before I get back. I'm not dealing with that."

Dean was pretty sure he was bright pink, so he stammered out an acknowledgement and hurriedly left the room in pursuit of his brother. He found the younger Winchester upstairs in their room, perched on an old twin bed with his knees tucked up to his chest, flipping through a ratty old paperback copy of  _The Adventures Of Sherlock Holmes_. Dean was pretty sure Sam had it memorized, so he must have been reading it for a distraction.

"Hey," Dean said softly, sitting down on the part of the bed Sam wasn't currently occupying. "Can we talk?"

Sam reluctantly set the book aside, moving his arms to circle around his knees. "What's up?" He asked, the fake normality in his tone almost enough to make Dean believe everything was really fine.

"I'm done ignoring this and pretending it'll get better on its own," Dean announced, still keeping his tone gentle. Excessive displays of emotion and affection weren't really his thing, but this was Sam. Dean could take one for the team if it meant helping his brother.

Sam blew out a long breath and straightened, swinging his legs over so he was sitting beside Dean. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make things uncomfortable for everyone."

Dean rolled his eyes upward and sighed heavily. Of course Sam thought it was his fault. "Sam, in what possible universe could this be at all your fault?"

Surprised, Sam raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Dean pointed at himself, his tone deadly serious. "I'm the one who ignored your advice and went after the witch. I'm the one who screwed up and got cursed. You're the victim here, Sammy. You should be mad at me, or something."

"I don't blame you," Sam said immediately, his tone perfectly honest.

Dean rubbed at his forehead in frustration. "I know that, but you should. At the very least we should talk about this. I mean, you're avoiding me, man. I don't blame you, but we can't do this forever. Eventually we gotta leave Bobby's, and I hate all these eggshells we're stepping on."

Sam's lips quirked slightly at the expression, but he sighed again and shrugged.

"Do you still believe any of what I said while I was cursed is true?" Dean asked quietly. "Because if you do, we have a more serious problem then I thought."

"No!" Sam answered immediately, eyebrows sky rocketing. "That's what you think? No, Dean, I swear I don't believe any of it. I'm upset with myself because I believed it at all."

Suddenly everything clicked for Dean. Sam wasn't mad at Dean for getting cursed or for anything he'd said while cursed. He was mad at himself for believing for a second that any of it was true. Dean took a moment to wrap his brain around the fact that Sam was upset that he'd doubted Dean. No wonder he'd been so awkward and distant lately!

Taking advantage of Dean's momentary silence, Sam added, "You have every right to be mad at me. I don't know why I ever believed for a second that you could say anything like that."

Okay, enough was enough. Dean twisted on the bed until he was facing Sam, snagging one of his brother's hand and holding it tightly in his own. "Okay, listen up, little brother. This is going to be the most emo conversation of my life, but it's happening, so pay attention. You know I love you more than anything, right?"

Sam couldn't help but smile a little, and he nodded. "Yeah, I know that."

"And I know love me more than anything," Dean continued, pausing until Sam nodded his assent vigorously. "So let me tell you something very clearly. If our positions had been reversed, and you'd been cursed to say to me what I said to you for that long, you can bet your ass I would start doubting. It's not because I doubt you though, and I don't believe you doubt me. I have definitely had my moments where I can't believe you're actually with me. That you actually choose to stay with me when I know you could have so much better." When Sam looked like he was about to object, Dean held up a finger to stop him. "I know for a fact that you think the same way, Sammy. You are worth so much more than you know, but you somehow wonder how I chose you. Our issue isn't doubting each other, baby boy, it's doubting ourselves. Don't you dare believe for a second that you aren't the absolute best thing that's ever happened to me. You promise me that you'll remember that and I'll do my best to remember that it goes both ways. Deal?"

Sam didn't pause for a moment before lunging forward into Dean's arms, clutching him tight. "Thank you," he murmured into Dean's shoulder, the words muffled. 

Stroking a hand down Sam's hair, Dean took a minute to be relieved he'd managed to make it through that whole conversation. He really hated stuff like this, but holding Sam in his arms he decided it had been worth it.

When Sam finally pulled back, looking lighter than he had in days, Dean waggled his eyebrows and said, "Bobby told me that if we messed up the sheets then we had to do laundry before he got back. I don't know about you, but that sounds like a blatant invitation to me."

Sam laughed out loud and shook his head. "I'm not having sex in our childhood bedroom," he stated flatly, rolling his eyes. At Dean's fake pout, he added, "We could always find some old junker to mess up..."

Grinning, Dean jumped to his feet and held out a hand to pull Sam up. "I knew there was a reason I liked you best!"


End file.
